A Quiet Moment
by Jerathai
Summary: Throughout the time of the Great Sorrow, Mo'at's strength sustained the heart and spirit of the Omaticaya. But even those of great strength must once in a while rest.


Mo'at surveyed the gathering-circle with relief. First meal was over, and the Omaticaya were beginning their day. A large group of children were playing under the supervision of a few adults, weavers and leather-workers were beginning the day's tasks, and several of the Omaticaya scouts rode past on new pa'li to relieve those currently on duty. Clan life was beginning to get back to normal. That meant that she could take a small break.

She went to the scout-leader of the day and informed him that she was going to walk in the jungle for the morning, and reassured him that she would not go far. She lost no time in making good on that action, and headed directly out into the thick woods.

It was a relief to feel the twilight under the trees envelop her, wonderful to have just the sounds of the jungle in her ears. It had been a long time since she had been able to indulge in the simple pleasure of an aimless walk – the forced march from Old Hometree to the Tree of Souls hardly counted as pleasant exercise. Mo'at enjoyed the relief of direct physical activity as she traveled the under-canopy. She wasn't a hunter, but all Omaticaya were woods-wise as far as safe travel was concerned.

She made her way through the trees for over an hour, taking in the sights, smells, and sounds of their new home. She stopped and sat down when she found an inviting spot; a wide branch overlooking a tributary of the river that ran by the new Hometree.

Mo'at removed the tsahik-necklace she wore and laid it down on the branch before her with a sigh. She leaned back against the trunk of the tree gratefully and closed her eyes. _Eytukan, I'm so tired. I miss you so,_ she thought to herself. A tear fell, and she made no move to brush it away.

She knew why he had forbidden her to join him. The tribe needed her too badly. She was mother to the entire clan, as Neytiri would one day be. The Omaticaya had been badly wounded; they needed the emotional reassurance of a mother they knew, one with a firm but nurturing hand. Her strength was a comfort to them now; Mo'at needed to display that strength every waking moment so that they would see her and be reassured that the pain would pass. They needed her to be firm, so that they could have confidence that Eywa was still with them, still guided them.

Some times – such as now – it was a heavy burden. Mo'at longingly remembered a simpler time, years ago, when she and Eytukan had been new mates. She smiled at the memories. They had been very much like Jake and Neytiri were now; full of life, full of joy in each other. And in later years, when they had stood as Olo'eyctan and Tsahik, they still had that closeness. She was the one person that Eytukan had been able to drop the chiefship with, and he the one person with whom she could lay aside the burden of Tsahik. They had always been able to be simply Eytukan and Mo'at when they were with each other. _I miss that most of all,_ she thought wistfully. It was an informality that she could not afford now, not until the clan had recovered and was stable again.

Jake and Neytiri were developing that kind of relationship, and that brought her comfort. They would be a great Olo'eyctan and Tsahik in their time. She could see that strength in Jake even now, and knew it would become greater. They had spoken of it together, when she sought to impress upon him how the Omaticaya, and especially the younger warriors, looked up at him.

"I feel like a damned pompous ass," he'd complained, when she stressed the need for him to speak with a bit more gravity than was his custom. He'd conceded though – and the resulting improvement in the confidence and attitude of the Omaticaya had convinced him of the wisdom of her words. Mo'at smiled to herself. Jake's speech was still a mishmash, though everyone could see how hard he was working on it. It was an endearing facet of her son in law. That too would change, in time.

And Neytiri – had blossomed beyond her greatest hopes. Mo'at had feared for her younger daughter. The laughing, joyful child that she had birthed, the one who had disappeared in favor of a cold hunter when her sister Sylwanin had been gunned down by the Sky People before her eyes – had been returned to her. For that miracle alone, Mo'at owed Jake more than she could ever repay.

She felt closer to Jake now than she had ever been. Neytiri had not yet had to bear the burden of being Tsahik, but Jake had the full weight of Olo'eyctan on his shoulders. Every once in a while he would look at his mother in law with an expression on his face that she had seen many a time on Eytukan's. He too, needed her firm but gentle hand, until that burden settled fully. _Perhaps, in time, we might also be able to drop the burdens of Tsahik and Olo'eyctan with each other, once in a while._ Another comforting thought.

Mo'at looked at the lush jungle around her. She could Feel Eywa's presence in the trees, in the sparkling water beneath her, in the whispers on the gentle air, and gratefully surrendered her burden and her tiredness to the Great Mother for a while. She never noticed it when Eywa gentled her into sleep.

She was awakened when a warm ray of sunshine directly overhead caressed her. She raised her face to it, grateful for the short reprieve. There would be a time, later, when she would be able to put down her burden permanently and simply be Mo'at once again, but that time would not come for a while. For now, the Omaticaya still needed the firm and strong Mother. She whispered a prayer of thanks to Eywa for the few moments of rest, picked up the tsahik-necklace and put it back on, settling it comfortably. Then the Tsahik got up and headed home.


End file.
